


Compensation

by justonelastdance



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Consent Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Rescue from Thangorodrim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justonelastdance/pseuds/justonelastdance
Summary: Maitimo goes to Turukáno to make amends the only way he knows how.
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41





	Compensation

He waits for the moment when he's sure he can find Turukáno alone. He has prepared for this, has asked around to make sure that they won't be disturbed. He doesn't know what Turukáno will want from him. He's ready for anything, but selfishly he still hopes he won't have to go too far.

Turukáno rises to his feet, already outraged, when he slips inside.

"What are you doing here?" he hisses.

Maitimo falls to his knees, grimacing as his still tender wounds sting. "I have come to make amends," he says, his head bowed.

Turukáno is silent for a few moments. Maitimo's heart is beating madly in his throat, his knees ache. One would think he would be used to this, but a few weeks under Findekáno's tender care and he's forgotten all about how to serve.

"What do you think you are doing?" Turukáno asks again.

Maitimo dares to look up. His cousin seems shocked and enraged. Maitimo's heart skips a bit. This is going to be painful by the looks of it, but he will do anything to heal the feud.

"I have promised the crown to your father," he says quietly. "I have promised him horses and riches and anything he might need. I know it is not enough. Not for you. So. I am here. I will do what you ask of me. I will pay whatever retribution you want for the suffering we have caused you."

Turukáno laughs, loud and bitter, and Maitimo flinches. This isn't going well so far.

"Do you think whatever you offer may satisfy me, cousin?" he asks. "Do you think it can make me forget my pain?" He slumps down on a chair. "Can you return my wife to me? Can you? That's the only thing I want."

Maitimo closes his eyes for a moment. He hoped it wouldn't come to this. His stomach twists and he's glad he hasn't eaten anything since morning. He wants to run away. He wants to go back to his bed, curl up under the covers and wait for Findekáno, but instead, he shuffles forward on his knees until he's between Turukáno's legs. 

"What are you doing?" Turukáno asks, his eyes wide.

"I would like to offer you something," Maitimo whispers. He tries to make his voice seductive the way he has been taught, but it comes out shaky and frightened. "I will make it good for you."

He puts his hand between Turukáno's legs. If he's lucky, his hand will be enough, but when has he ever been lucky? Turukáno jerks back and looks at him as though he has grown a second head. He opens, then closes his mouth.

"What-what are you—"

"I know I cannot replace your wife," Maitimo interrupts. The sooner this is over, the sooner he will be back in his bed. 

Turukáno frowns, the shock in his eyes turning to anger. Maitimo freezes. This is bad. What did he do wrong? He has to redress the situation immediately.

"I-I am not trying to replace her," he says quickly, "But I may offer some temporary distraction."

This isn't working. His head starts spinning. He's saying the wrong things. Less talk, more action. He leans forward and mouths at Turukáno's crotch.

The resounding slap sends him sprawling on the floor. He sees black for a moment. Blood rushes to his ears and when he can hear again, Turukáno is shouting.

"You dared to think that! You dared to insult my wife like that! Do you think that is the only reason I miss her? You disgusting filth!"

Maitimo instinctively curls up, presses his forehead to the ground and covers his head with his arms. It's the best position in these situations, both subservient and protective.

"That is not what I meant," he says desperately when Turukáno pauses to take a breath. "I am so sorry. Please, forgive me, my lord. Please, let me make it up to you. I will do anything. Anything. Please. Just tell me what you want."

"Shut up!"

Maitimo curls up even tighter and bites his lip, swallowing down more apologies. This was the wrong approach. He shouldn't have mentioned his wife. That was so stupid. How can he make this right now? He will have to let Turukáno take him as brutally as he wishes. He was naïve to hope that only his hand or, in the worst case, his mouth would be enough.

"What's going on, Father?"

Maitimo holds his breath. Itarillë shouldn't be here. Why is she here? Turukáno will kill him now and undo everything Findekáno has worked so hard for. 

"Is that Maitimo? What's wrong with him?" Itarillë asks.

"We were talking and he felt sick," Turukáno says unconvincingly.

Maitimo wants to raise his head and tell her that there is nothing to worry about but finds that he cannot move. His limbs are too heavy and he's dizzy.

Suddenly, there is a small, warm hand on her shoulder. "You are trembling," Itarillë says. "Are you cold?"

She doesn't wait for an answer. Her light footsteps go away for a moment, then return, and she drapes a warm cloak over Maitimo's shoulders. 

"Come, let's get you on the chair," she says, tugging on Maitimo's arm. "Father, help me."

Together, Itarillë and Turukáno drag Maitimo up and help him sit. He is surprised to realize that he's really trembling. And badly at that. His limbs don't obey him at all and his face burns when he has to lean against Turukáno for support.

Itarillë goes away again and Turukáno turns his head to the side. He says nothing, only clenches and unclenches his fists. Maitimo doesn't say anything either because he cannot get his mouth working. Maybe that's for the best. If he could talk, he would beg forgiveness again, and he already knows that it makes Turukáno angry. Everything makes Turukáno angry. Maybe that's the clue? He has to get him angry enough to want to take it out on Maitimo. Maybe that will satisfy him.

But before he can try to get his voice back, Itarillë returns with a cup of tea. 

"Here, Maitimo," she says. "It will warm you up."

She pries open his fingers and puts the warm cup in his hand. Embarrassingly, Maitimo feels tears in his eyes. Itarillë politely looks away and Maitimo wipes his eyes with his empty right sleeve, wincing a little at the pain in his shoulder. When he looks up, Turukáno is staring at him but quickly turns away.

"Itarillë, please find your uncle, tell him that Maitimo is here and wants to go back," he says quietly.

Itarillë smiles at Maitimo, exchanges a look with her father and goes out. Maitimo's fingers grip the cup tightly. Turukáno doesn't talk. Maitimo wishes he would hit him again or turn him around and fuck him on the table. Anything but this ominous silence. Such silences promise nothing good.

"Never offer me anything like that ever again," Turukáno says suddenly in a low voice. He pauses for a moment and adds awkwardly, "Don't offer it to anyone. Of course, unless you truly want it."

Maitimo frowns in confusion, takes a sip from his tea: it is sweet and hot. 

"I truly wanted it," he says.

He wanted, still wants to make it up to Turukáno for his losses. It doesn't matter how. 

Turukáno rubs the bridge of his nose. "No, that... No. Look, your... body isn't something to offer as payment. It's wrong."

"But you would take nothing else." 

"I won't take it either!" He closes his eyes and sighs. "Maitimo, nothing can bring Elenwë back, nothing can make up for it. You cannot do anything to repay me. But if it will comfort you, I do not intend to hinder the healing of the feud between our houses."

"Thank you, Turukáno," Maitimo whispers. "I truly am sorry... Are you sure I cannot offer you anything?"

"No! I don't know how to explain this to you. Talk to my brother about it."

Maitimo's heart starts beating faster. "Are you going to tell Finno?"

"I won't, but you should."

Maitimo nods, but he has no idea how or what he will tell Findekáno. They fall silent until the door opens and Findekáno rushes in.

"What's going on? What are you doing here? Are you alright?" he cries, running to Maitimo.

"Maitimo wanted to talk to me," Turukáno says. "We did, then he felt dizzy, so I sent for you. He feels better now."

"Oh," Findekáno says relieved. "Thanks, Turo. He shouldn't be on his feet for so long. Maitimo, are you ready to go back?"

Maitimo nods and takes Findekáno's offered hand. His legs barely hold him and Findekáno has to support his weight. His arm around Maitimo is solid and safe, and Maitimo wants to stay like that forever. He leans his head against Findekáno's shoulder, inhaling his scent. Turukáno clears his throat. Maitimo is too exhausted to feel embarrassed and Findekáno probably doesn't care. He puts a light kiss on Maitimo's neck and helps him walk to the door. Maitimo turns back before going out.

"Thank you," he tells Turukáno.

His cousin nods and turns his back to them.

Maitimo finally stops shaking when he is lying in his bed, his head in Findekáno's lap. Findekáno's fingers draw circles on his scalp, play with his hair and the tips of his ears. Maitimo is drifting off to sleep when Findekáno speaks.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

Maitimo tenses, but Findekáno's hand in his hair doesn't stop moving and he relaxes again almost against his will.

"I don't want to," he says.

"Is there a reason for that?"

"It will make you feel..." Revolted? Probably. But this is Findekáno, so... "Sad," Maitimo says. "I don't want to make you sad."

"All right," Findekáno says. "You don't have to tell me. You don't have to tell me anything you—"

"I asked your brother to sleep with me," Maitimo blurts out.

Findekáno's hand freezes in Maitimo's hair. He says nothing. A traitorous part of Maitimo expects his grip to tighten, expects pain, but this is Findekáno and he would never. He would never.

"He refused, fortunately," Maitimo says. He is shaking again. "Or maybe it wasn't fortunate. Maybe it would have been better had he agreed. Maybe he wouldn't hold grudges then. Do you think he might change his mind? He won't, will he? He and Itarillë were kinder to me than I deserve." The air is thinning and he's wheezing, but he can't stop talking. "Don't worry, I didn't ask it with Itarillë there. I'm not that far gone. She came in later. I don't think she realized what had happened. It's hard to imagine something like that, isn't it? You have to be as depraved as I am— Oh, I made you sad. I knew I would. I wish you would hit me, you know, or yell at me at least. I could bear it easier than the expression on your face. I always do this to you. You deserve so much—"

"Shh." Findekáno presses two fingers to Maitimo's lips. "Just breathe, Russandol. Just breathe. Follow my lead. All right? Are you breathing?"

Maitimo nods. He takes deep, slow breaths. The tightness in his chest loosens a bit and the mist before his eyes disperses. Only the embarrassment of his words remains.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I only wanted to smooth things out with Turukáno. I know how much he has lost. I wanted to pay something back." Findekáno's hand resumes its ministrations in Maitimo's hair, but this time it only makes Maitimo tense more. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I forgot I was only yours now."

"Russandol..." Findekáno gently pushes him away and slides down, lying face to face with him. "You are not mine. Or rather you are mine just as much as I am yours. If you will have me. But I don't own you. Do you understand that?"

"Yes?"

Findekáno sighs. "We will talk about it later, but now, Russandol, I need you to understand that you don't have to use your body as a commodity."

"But I have nothing else to offer."

"It doesn't matter. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I wanted to make it up to Turukáno."

"Did you want to sleep with him?"

"I wanted to help you avoid a strife."

"Did you want to sleep with him?"

"No..."

"There you go."

"Oh." When Findekáno says it, everything seems so simple that Maitimo feels stupid. But he knows that as soon as Findekáno is away, it won't be long until he's tangled in his own mind, doubts his own thoughts, his reality, his decisions just like it happened today.

"Are you still unhappy with me?" he asks.

Findekáno smiles, a private, small smile that makes Maitimo's breath catch. 

"I wasn't unhappy with you, Russo, and I'm not now," Findekáno says.

"That's good," Maitimo murmurs. 

He wants to take Findekáno's hand, but he's tired, sluggish, and it's hard to move. Findekáno must have read his mind because he takes Maitimo's hand himself. Findekáno is always so good to him, better than he deserves, but Maitimo is selfish and always wants more, so he asks, "Will you stay with me?"

Findekáno brings his hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. And because he's Findekáno, he smiles and says, "As long as you want."


End file.
